Wishing Well

A college student begins to come to terms with her family�s problems and the past.

 The water rippled in the well of the fountain, as the rain rushed down from the sky.  The water shimmered a shiny, copper color.  The rain poured down harder and harder until the level in the wishing well began to rise, overworking the circulation system.  The water came off the fountain in fierce waves, rather than in gentle streams.
      Isabella’s wet hair clung to her cheeks and neck.  Water rushed down her face, and soaked her black t-shirt. Her jeans felt tight any heavy, and goose bumps formed on her bare arms.  Isabella sat on the stone well, and watched the violent ripples reverberating through the water.  She watched the glimmers of copper and silver, and admired the fountain that rose out of the wishing well.  She was mesmerized.
              With great difficulty, she pulled a penny from her denim pocket, finding the fabric unwilling to move.  She stood up, and looked deep into the well, as she watched her reflection become distorted in the water.  She tossed the penny in the well, and walked away, without bothering to make a wish.
              Walking home Isabella realized how uncomfortable she was.  Her clothes stuck to her, making movement difficult, and the more she became aware of the rain and how wet she was, the colder she was.  She unlocked her door, and walked into to her apartment, tracking water through her kitchen and living room on her way to the bathroom.  She peeled off her clothes and hung them over the tub.  She threw on her sweatpants and a t-shirt, and went back into the kitchen.  The light on the answering machine was blinking red.  Isabella hit the PLAY button.
      “Hey honey,” Isabella immediately recognized the deep, resounding tone of her father’s voice.  “I’m sorry you couldn’t get out of class today.  We really wish you could have come to the hearing, but we know how busy you are out there.” The voice paused. “They gave her the three months. But, I-I guess we all figured that would happened.”  There was another pause, and then the beep sounded, signifying the end of the message.
        Isabella deleted it.  She made herself a cup of hot chocolate and poured a bowl of cereal.
              Isabella didn’t sleep well that night.  She dreamt of copper pennies, and wishing wells, and rain.  She tossed and turned, and woke frequently.  She opened her eyes that morning to find herself thoroughly entangled in her sheets.
              An hour later, Isabella was sitting on the outside patio of Café Joe’s under an umbrella.  The sun shone brightly, high in the sky, erasing the memory of the previous day’s storm.  The day was dry and cool, and birds hummed their after rain songs.  Isabella watched as people strolled by in their spring wear, women in dresses and sandals, men in short sleeves and sunglasses.  She noticed as a pair of grandparents pushed a stroller along the opposite sidewalk. She leaned back in her chair, letting the sun warm her face.  She closed her eyes, and her mind began to wander. Her mind didn’t wander far before a sudden grating sound startled her, the sound of a metal chair scraping against concrete.  Her eyes snapped open, and she sat up to see sitting across from her, a face she hadn’t seen in a while.  
              Eric, her best friend, sat across from her, leaning back causally, smiling at her, amused that he had startled her.   Even sitting down, he appeared tall to her.  His short black was lightly gelled, and he was dressed as if he had just come from a photo shoot, clad in designer jeans and a light blue dress shirt.
              “So, how are you doing?” He asked her, his expression suddenly becoming serious.
              “I’m fine.”
              “Izzy, I know you better than that.  You look like you haven’t slept in a week.”
              “I’ve slept.”
              “Very well, I see,” He paused.  “Seriously, how are doing with all this?”
              “I haven’t seen you in a month, and you want to waste time dwelling on my mom’s court hearing?”
              “Why not?”
              “There’s nothing to talk about.  It’s been a long time coming.  I’m glad it finally has, and I hope it does her good.”  Just then, the waitress, seeing that the missing person had arrived, came over with the menus and took their drink orders.
              “Ok, then,” Eric continued as the waitress walked away. “How’s university treating you?”
              “Kind of like a work horse, only for thinking instead of hauling.” Isabella joked. “You?”
              “About the same.”  He smiled.
              Eric and Isabella passed the next hour exchanging stories and complaints about their schooling.  Several customers came and went as they talked.  The sun rose higher in the sky, but the breeze remained cool and refreshing. Eric and Isabella paid their bill and got up.  They began to walk down the sidewalk.  They walked pass building after building.  They passed sidewalk venders selling hot dogs, and pretzels, and handmade jewelry and purses.  Isabella led the way, unconsciously taking the same route she took every day, towards the park she walked through on her way home.  Their conversation steered from current happenings to past memories as they continued on their impromptu walk.
              “Do you remember the time we tried to set up a booby trap in your room, like the one in that Abbott and Costello movie, and we broke that light fixture?”  Isabella asked.  Eric laughed.
              “Man, we thought we were going to be in so much trouble, but my parents just laughed at us.” He recalled.
      “Things were so much easier when we were kids, weren’t they,” Isabella mused, as they walked through the park.  “There was so much less to worry about.”  Eric and Isabella came upon the park’s wishing well.  Isabella intended to continue on, but Eric stopped.  He walked to the edge of the well, and gazed into it.
              “Do you remember that wishing well back home?”  Eric asked.  Isabella walked over to the wishing well to stand next him.
              “Yeah, I remember it.”
              “You always loved these things.  Wishing wells.  Fountains.”  Eric’s voice was soft and distant, as if it was sounding from a different time and place.
              “I still do.”
              “Do you come here a lot?”  Eric said, speaking in his normal voice.  He turned away from the fountain, and looked at Isabella.
              “I was here yesterday,” she said, as she sat along the edge, turned towards Eric.  “I pass it everyday.”
              “I remember when you stopped making wishes.  That exact day.”  Isabella turned her head, so that she was no longer looking at her friend.  “We were fourteen. It was your birthday.” Eric continued, gazing back into the water, his voice regaining the same distant tone as before.
              “Two years after my mom started drinking,” Isabella said, finally, after a long pause.  She turned to face Eric, again.  Tears streamed down her face.  “The day she got her first DUI.  When I realized making wishes wouldn’t help her.  Wouldn’t make her stop drinking.”  Eric put his arm around her, and they stayed like that for awhile.  Isabella cried into his shoulder, until her body couldn’t muster anymore tears.  Finally, Isabella spoke, again.
              “This is her third DUI.  She deserves the three months in jail.”  Her voice rasped in a tone mixed with bitterness and agony.
              “I know.”  Eric agreed.  He paused, and, then, asked, “Are you going to visit her?”
              “I don’t think I can.”  
              “Maybe you’ll be able to,” Eric encouraged. “After a while.”
              “Maybe.”
              Three weeks later, Isabella found herself home, home to the place she had been raised.  Greensdale was a small place, and Isabella remembered how claustrophobic she felt there as she was growing up.  On this day, her hometown felt particularly stifling.  She wandered around downtown Greensdale.  It took her only fifteen minutes to walk from one side to the other.  
              Eventually, Isabella came to be standing in front of a large brick building.  She had passed this building millions of times as a child, and the building never seemed any larger or more ominous than any other building.  But, today, the building loomed over her, appearing taller and more intimidating that any skyscraper in the city that was her new home.
              Isabella came to the metal detectors, emptied her pockets, and handed her purse over to the security guard.  She stepped through the metal detector, which instantly screamed its alarm.  Another security guard came over.  He made her turn around as he waved his metal detector around her.  It beeped at her belt.
              “You can go,” he said, satisfied that Isabella was no danger.  She picked up the contents of her pockets and her purse, and was escorted to her destination by a guard.
              Moments later, Isabella was seated at a table in the visitation room.  The room was filled with small groups of people, families, Isabella assumed, all lost in their own private worlds.  A woman appeared in front her, and sat on the other side of the table.  The woman’s face appeared years older than its actual age, and large dark circles surrounded the woman’s eyes. They sat quietly for several seconds, which seemed to Isabella to be several minutes, or even hours.  The silence became overwhelming, and she spoke.
              “Hi, mom.”